


Touchdown

by jupiter_james



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College AU, First Dates, Gift Fic, M/M, Nerds in Love, Pining, Prompt Fill, engineering student Dean Winchester, football star Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 16:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16349789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter_james/pseuds/jupiter_james
Summary: Castiel Novak is the star quarterback for his college, destined for the NFL. Dean Winchester is the nerdy mechanical engineer who worships him from afar. That is, until they actually meet. For Dean, it's the chance of a lifetime that he won't pass up.





	Touchdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KrazyK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyK/gifts).



> This is a gift fic prompt from [Burrsmom](http://burrsmom.tumblr.com), who was so kind and patient while I worked on this! Thank you!

Dean Winchester has a pretty serious problem. A football problem. A football player problem. More specifically, a former wide receiver, now quarterback problem.

“Don’t do it, Winchester,” Charlie warns, plopping down beside him.

Dean startles, head whipping around to see his best friend as she tries to get comfortable on the metal bleacher seats. He hadn’t realized he’d sighed out loud. Again. “Do what?” he mutters, because he’s supposed to. She’ll go off anyway, so it’s better to just prompt her and let her get it over with.

“Gettin’ a chub over freaking Castiel Novak,” she gripes like she’s just said an entire sentence of hardcore swear words.

Dean doesn’t move from his position of elbows on knees, chin in hands. “I like watching their practice. Running plays over and over is fascinating from a statistics and design standpoint.”

“Ugh,” Charlie answers, but she still stays with him to watch.

“Even you like the rivalry games,” he points out. “They’re looking good this year. They’ll probably win.”

“I’m not going,” Charlie says. “I’m not paying three hundred dollars to feed the beast.”

“I already bought your ticket,” Dean says distractedly as Castiel steps back on the current play and promptly gets sacked. Dean shoots to his feet, but Castiel is already being helped up, smacking the linebacker’s helmet as they reset the play.

“This is the only part of your personality that I super hate,” Charlie grouches.

Dean takes his seat again with a small smile. “There’s nothing wrong with college football. And there’s nothing wrong with Castiel Novak.”

"You're kidding me right now," Charlie says flatly. "He's a Geography major at one of the most prestigious engineering universities in the world. He's not smart enough to be here! None of them are! All those assholes do is party and play football. It's a disgrace to the school!"

Dean rolls his eyes, unmoved by her impassioned speech. "The linebacker who just sacked Cas has a 4.0 in aerospace engineering. Half the other guys have above 3.8 in other engineering fields. Only their stars have the bullshit majors. And who cares? In four years they'll be making millions in the NFL. And for now they keep this university afloat, and our in state tuition down. We're not better than them. They're just good at other stuff."

"Is that your dick talking?"

Dean shoots her a warning look.

She holds her hands up in defeat. "Okay, fine, but you've never even spoken to him. Worshipping from afar is beneath you."

Dean shrugs. "Dude, as much as I hate it, there's a wall that even my charm can't breach. He's a god here, and I'm a mechanical engineering nerd. Plus, he's probably straight."

Charlie makes a considering hum. "Won't know unless you talked to him. Which you can do. He's not an untouchable."

Dean shakes his head. "I wouldn't even know what to say."

Charlie grins. "No, you wouldn't."

A man can dream, though. And Dean certainly is a dreamer.

~ o ~ x ~ xoXox ~ x ~ o ~

Funny how dreams have a way of becoming a reality. It's Saturday and Dean's tired of the slobs he's forced to share a dorm suite with, so he wanders the sprawling city campus, even though it's starting to get too cold to not have a destination in mind. The sky's a slate gray and the wind's starting to pick up. Nevertheless, Dean strolls to the city's pride and joy landmark burger joint. Complete with drive up roller skating servers. He pushes into the brushed steel and red tile warmth of the restaurant, picking a booth near the window, and not even bothering with the menu.

Since the restaurant is completely empty at this time of day, his huge burger and Coke float are up in no time. But instead of stuffing his face immediately as usual, he takes his time watching the traffic outside the window while idly swirling his fries in ketchup. He doesn't even notice someone standing beside his table.

"We go to school together," a pleasingly rough voice says.

Dean turns from the window and promptly swallows his fry the wrong way, because of course he'd do that in front of Castiel Freaking Novak.

His fit of choking isn't all for naught, however, because Castiel falls into the seat across from him, properly concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Dean gasps, mortified and also really needing some more oxygen. He pounds himself on the chest. "Just. Ugh. Wrong pipe."

Castiel starts to smile a little bit, and Dean finds himself just a little caught by it. "Wouldn't be good to choke on your Thanksgiving dinner, would it?"

Dean blinks. "What?"

An incredible squint takes over Castiel's handsome features. "Thanksgiving's this week, right? I... apologize if I assumed you weren't going home. But since you were here... Oh, and I suppose you might not even go to Tech, even though you're wearing a hoodie from... um... well."

Dean watches in fascination as Castiel's perfect ears start to turn red. Wow. "I go to Tech," Dean says faintly. "Mechanical engineering." He watches with wide-eyed wonder as the server approaches with Castiel's burger and soda refill, setting it all down. At Dean's table. With Dean. Where Dean is sitting. Across from Castiel Novak.

"That's amazing," Castiel says, and it doesn't actually sound like some sort of platitude. "Do you know what you're going to do after you graduate?"

Dean watches Castiel squirt a generous amount of ketchup onto his plate and his burger. "Not sure," he answers. "There's a lot of options. And I've got two more years to figure it out, anyway."

"Same," Castiel answers.

Dean's brain finally checks back in long enough for him to snort. "Dude, you're an NFL hopeful. It was huge news when you got QB."

Eyes widening slightly, Castiel hesitantly queries, "you... watch football?"

Rolling his eyes, Dean answers, "nerds can like sports, too. I mean, if you haven't noticed the thousand of us who fill the stands every home game."

Shaking his head emphatically, Castiel counters, "no, I understand that. It's just... you know about me?"

Taken aback, Dean can feel his own face starting to heat. "Uh. Y'know. Even ESPN knows Castiel Novak. So."

Inexplicably, Castiel's face falls, though he hides it by grabbing his burger. "I see," he answers softly.

He has no idea what he's done to elicit that sort of response, so he clears his throat. "I'm Dean by the way. Dean Winchester."

"Hello, Dean," Castiel says, looking a strange mixture of down yet pleased.

"And you're right," Dean admits, mostly because he wants to see Castiel looking so tentatively happy some more. "I'm not going home for Thanksgiving. I don't mind it, though. I think it's kinda cool when the whole city is a freaking ghost town."

Castiel nods in agreement, finally digging into his own food.

"Why are you here, though?" Dean asks. "Do you really also stay behind on vacation?"

Castiel shrugs. "Yes, I suppose so. I don't really have anyone to visit."

Interest piqued, Dean pushes gently forward. "Why not?"

Popping a fry in his mouth like he hasn't got a care in the world, Castiel answers casually, "my lifestyle, frankly." He looks up at Dean, making the man's heart stutter with his suddenly proudly challenging gaze. "My family has been trying to 'mend bridges' with me recently. After my promotion and recent fame."

The air quotes are adorable, but the meaning is far from lost on Dean. "Huh. The old 'love them when they're good press,' routine."

A wry smile twists Castiel's lips. "Yes." His gaze falters a little, eyes sliding down to his plate. "How much do you know about me? I mean, do you know why I play football here?"

Dean arches an interested eyebrow. "Because you were offered a full scholarship?"

Castiel barks a harsh laugh. "There's that. But also, it's because I came out publicly when I was being scouted in high school."

A flash of pure, hot electricity ricochets through Dean at the speed of light. Castiel is... Castiel Novak is... what?

This time, Castiel's disappointed, resigned frown comes on much quicker. "I didn't want to deny who I was just to be rich and miserable, so I made an announcement. Naturally, most of the offers dried up after that, except for Tech. A couple of others that seemed to care more about my performance than my sexuality. I don't like lying to people." It's all Dean can do to not hyperventilate right then and there. But then Castiel shoves back, standing up abruptly. Dean blinks in confusion. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable," Castiel finishes roughly. "I'll just--"

He cuts off when Dean's hand flies out on its own, grabbing Castiel's arm firmly. "I hate football," he blurts, totally not saying or doing anything he'd intended.

Castiel's beautiful blue eyes widen. "I'm sorry?" he says, mystified.

"I go to all the home games, but I hate football," Dean rushes, hoping that his mouth will be faster than his embarrassment so that his doesn't waste this rare opportunity. "It's boring and straight and just a stupid sport that people make millions for that they probably don't deserve. I go to watch you. I've always gone to the games to watch you. I just... man, Cas, I know I sound like a freaking fanboy right now, and you can totally run away screaming, but like... you're hot and you're amazing at what you do. You're the only reason I bother to watch football."

His heart dies a little bit as Castiel pointedly, but nicely, brushes Dean's hand off. He needs to apologize for coming on too strong, but before he does, Castiel reclaims his seat. "I... appreciate that sort of candor," he says slowly.

"I didn't scare you off?" Dean asks tentatively.

Castiel's expression eases into his attractive half-smile. "No. So... now that we understand each other, does this mean we can keeping talking and decide if we'd be compatible... friends?"

Bolder now, especially with how hesitantly Castiel had suggested friendship first, Dean grins. And it's good he risks it because Castiel's eyes immediately flick down to his lips for a second. "It means," Dean says, allowing his light Texas drawl to peek through, "that I'll pick up the tab, we call this a date, and see what happens." He wants to pass out he's so nervous making the suggestion, but fake it 'til you make it, so they say.

It's all worth it to see another one of Castiel's smiles, this one wide, gummy, and a hundred percent devastating. "That's acceptable." He nods towards the window. "We already have the proper romantic backdrop, anyway. It'd be a shame to waste it."

Dean glances over. It's starting to snow. He hopes his luck never runs out if it keeps dumping experiences like this right into his lap.

For once, it does actually last.

The date lasts through dinner, a leisurely stroll through the shopping district taking the long way to the dorms, then a shy hand-wringing offer for a drink in Castiel's room which Dean accepts.

And Dean would love to be jealous over the fact that football players get four person rooms all to themselves, but it doesn't last long. It lasts through one beer, in fact. Then he's tugging Castiel closer by the lapel of his weird, ugly trench coat, and kissing him with all the fervor of a dream coming true. Especially when Castiel kisses him back without a moment's hesitation.

They could leave it there. They probably should leave it there. First date and all.

They don't leave it there. Dean's been dreaming of this exact scenario for most of his, admittedly short, college career, and Castiel is touching him like a man given new life.

Which.

Well, the desperation is a huge turn on, but contrary to popular belief, Dean isn't looking to be Mr. Right This Second. However, he selfishly allows himself some indulgence, waiting until their shirts are off to say, "hey, pump the brakes, Cas."

Castiel does. Slowly, but he does. "What's wrong?" he asks, eyes glazed and so ready to keep going.

Physical distance becomes a pretty urgent necessity then, because Dean wants to keep going all damn night. He crawls back on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. He licks his lips, letting himself stare at Castiel's firm, naked torso. "Um... clearly I'm down for..." he gestures vaguely between them, "this, but... am I gonna be sent packing afterwards? No offence, but I've been in a locker room or two, and I know how jocks talk about... stuff."

Castiel swallows audibly, flushed clear to his chest. "No, I won't kick you out. Not if you don't want. I... I don't want you to want that. I suppose I never thought I'd meet someone like you. I realize it feels fast, but I'm not at all the one night stand type. I apologize."

Dean dives forward, tangling them in the sheets and showing Castiel over the next hour exactly how okay he is with moving things along at breakneck speed.

And by the time the sun's up, making the snow blanketing the city a bright, virgin white, Dean gets the distinct impression that his position curled up against Castiel Novak's solid back is going to become the new normal. And he's okay with that, too.


End file.
